There is no app for pancreatic cancer

October 6, 2011

Contrary to rumors that may or may not have been circulating around the Interwebs, I’m not out occupying Wall Street or any other street. The only thing I’ve been occupying is my time with bullshit, which keeps me from posting regularly. And sometimes I occupy a bar stool and drink until I can’t feel the world sucking as much.

I spent Thursday finding all my Facebook friends who bitched the day before about Apple not coming out with the iPhone5 (and only showing off the iPhone4S) and blaming them for Steve Jobs’s death. “Your collective negativity made his pancreas explode,” I post on their walls. “Think of that every time you run your blood-tinged fingers across your iPhone or iPad, you murderer.”

Now we probably won’t see our idea of Apple creating medical equipment come true. The iCAT Scan machine would have given people a smug sense of technological superiority over those other patients who are getting the Apple experience whilst getting scanned for potentially deadly brain tumors. That’s like getting caught listening to music on a fucking Zune.

I think I was more affected by the death of character actor Charles Napier, who I enjoyed most as the voice of Duke Phillips on the 90’s cartoon The Critic.

I love character actors, probably because I’d be one if I were an actor. They’re like goaltenders: a bit odd, they don’t get the same amount of accolades as the offense, but if they weren’t around you’d be worse off.

If I seem disjointed, it’s been that type of fortnight. The pumpkin ales are out, and I seek the best one. So far Weyerbacher’s Imperial Pumpkin Ale and Fegley’s Devious Pumpkin Ale are the best. Best thing is that they’re like 8 or 9 percent alcohol so it’s tasty and gets me feeling how I want to feel quicker. Maybe it’s the change of seasons, they’re too abrupt and erratic now. It’s October, and it’s going be 80 degrees out on Saturday. Earlier this week the temperature was in the high 50’s. If there was a Mother Nature, I’d have her checked for bipolar disorder. Did the seasons always do this, or did the seasons do a gradual change back when we were young and innocent and didn’t know shit about the horrors of life.

I’m going to go occupy a bathtub full of rum and drink my way to economic success. Because we are the 99% and this rum is 80 proof, so that means we have 19% unaccounted for. Their sacrifice will never be forgotten, because we won’t know about it in the first place.